At five minutes before the hour, I was at his
office, and sent in my card, through the clerk,
who came back into the outer room, saying,
Mr. Hardy was particularly engaged, but would
see me in five minutes. I waited nearly half an
hour, when the bell summoned the clerk, who
returned and ushered me into the sanctum of
the great promoter.  The latter greeted me with,
"Now, my dear sir, I can only give you ten
minutes, as I have three special meetings to
attend before five o'clock."  He made notes of
what I had to say, at the same time eating his
luncheon of biscuits and sherry, of which he
asked me to partake.  Before the ten minutes
were half over, he had appointed another interview
for me, and had politely bowed me out.
Almost as soon as I got into the street, I saw him
rushing across, his gloves crumpled up in one
hand, and several papers (one of which, I believe,
was a cheque) in the other.

Mr. Hardy was a prosperous man, but how
he ever got through any real business by hurrying
and rushing about the City, was always
matter of wonder to me.  And yet, he must have
found the profession of promoter, lucrative, else
how could the office-rent, the clerks' salaries, and
his own dress be paid for?  Or, whence could
the crossed cheques have come?  He showed me
from time to time always in strict confidence
two or three of his different schemes; and I
am bound to say that unlike the proposed
prospectuses of poor Mr. Hunter sooner or later,
these invariably appeared in the advertising
columns of the Times, Post, Telegraph, and Daily
News.  These advertisements alone must have
cost him a fortune, though, I presume, that
when a company "came out," the amount he
had expende was repaid him.  On one occasion,
I was sitting with him in his inner room, when
the elder of his two clerks asked for a cheque
for the advertising of "Columbian Banking
Corporation:" a new scheme, of which the
immensely long prospectus had appeared for the
first time in all the morning papers of that day.
"How much does it come to?" asked Mr.
Hardy."  Four, six, one, and fifteen, sir,"
answered the clerk. "Write it out and bring
it me to sign," said Mr. Hardy, taking his
cheque-book out of a drawer, and tossing it
over to the clerk.  In five minutes the clerk
came back with a cheque filled in for four hundred
and sixty-one pounds, fifteen shillings,
which his master signed, still continuing his
conversation with me, and with far less care
than I should have bestowed on the signing of
a cheque for five pounds.  I asked Mr. Hardy
—for by this time I knew him better—whether
all that sum was for the advertising of one
single scheme?  He replied that it was, and for
one single day, too.  That before a company was
brought out, or rather before the distribution of
its shares took place, between two and three thousand
pounds were generallv expended in advertisements,
which simply published the names of
the directors and the prospectus of the scheme.
That if the proposed company does not " take"
with the public, or if the shares are not all applied
for, and if—in the language of the City—
"the scheme won't Hunt," all the expenses that
have been incurred fall upon the promoter, who
is, consequently, often a considerable loser by
an affair of the kind.  The profession of promoter
is, however, something like the African
slave trade, in which those who engage in the
business can afford to lose three or four cargoes,
provided one in every four succeeds in getting safe
to Havannah, so great is the profit upon a shipload
of negroes that arrives safe at its destination.
Moreover, an experienced promoter takes
care, as a general rule, not to bring forward a
joint-stock company unless he is pretty sure
that the shares will be taken up.

As a matter of course, the promoter is sometimes
mistaken, and for some unknown reason or
other, neither the public nor the Stock Exchange
will have anything to do with an undertaking
which promises well for those who join it;
while, on the other hand, bubbles and swindles
often find favour with the multitude, and are
quoted at a premium, even before the shares
are allotted.  Much, however, depends upon
the names of the directors who form the
board. If these are "good City men," men
known to be wealthy, or belonging to wealthy
firms—or if even three or four of them be so reputed
—almost any scheme will "float" well:
which means, that its shares will be readily applied
for, and quickly bought up, by the public.  It
is not, however, those companies which come
out at the highest premiums that may be
considered as the best or safest investments
for money.  On the contrary, some of those
which, for a time, command little or no
premium, have often the best boards of direction,
and are the safest in the long run.  Between
the period when a new joint-stock company is
first advertised, and the day when no more
applications for shares are received, the promoters
of the scheme often do their best to
run up the scrip by fictitious buying and
selling— "rigging the market," as it is called
—of the future shares, by means of two or
three stockbrokers, who act upon orders, and
create a demand for the new stock.  Thus, if
the "Columbian Banking Corporation" prospectus
appeared in the advertising columns of
the Times for the first time on Monday morning,
it is very likely that the shares would be quoted
in the City articles of the evening papers as
being at two-three-quarters to two-seven-eighths
premium.  In other words, any one who had any
shares of the said " Columbian Bank" allotted to
him, might sell them—or rather might sell even
the promise of them—at a premium of two
pounds fifteen shillings to two pounds seventeen
shillings and sixpence each.  Now, as the deposit
that has to be paid upon each share before
application, is only one pound, the outside
public reason with themselves that the speculation
cannot be a bad one; for it is hardly possible
—so they think—to lose the one pound deposit,
whereas they have a good chance of winning
nearly three pounds on each share. The theory
of this is good, but the practice often otherwise.